


like butter

by seabear



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Feminization, Groping, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seabear/pseuds/seabear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga tucks his thumbs into one of the socks, rolling it down.  Slow.  Purposefully slow. Then the other.  And Daichi’s not sure, but he’s almost sure, face flushing at the thought, almost sure that--</p><p>“You--” Daichi balks. “Did you shave your legs?”</p><p>(this is literally 2.8k words about Suga's legs. happy easter, everyone)</p>
            </blockquote>





	like butter

“Compression socks?” Daichi asks.

“Ah, yeah,” Suga tightens his shoelaces. Monday morning light, brighter and more violent than morning light from anyone other day of the week, streaks in through the far window and catches in Suga’s hair. “I’ve been having some circulation problems lately.”

There’s the initial pang of worry, but it quickly gets swept under by the realization that Suga is _lying._ He’s not even trying that hard to hide the fact that he’s lying. He tilts his head, but shrugs. If Suga wants to talk about it, he’ll talk about it.

It’s not that strange for Suga to get to school before him, though most mornings they end up meeting along the way. Sometimes Suga waits for him at the corner a few blocks away from the train station, and they walk together. That’s what’s been happening most mornings now, so maybe that’s why it feels a little strange that Suga’s there before him. Whatever the feeling, Daichi gets distracted by a noisy scuffle coming from across the quad, Kageyama and Hinata arguing over who made it ti the gymnasium doors first. He yells at them over the balcony, Suga groaning behind him, “Daichi, not so loud. It’s early.”

But then Suga doesn’t wait for him any morning that week. And after practice, he’s always the last one, catching Shimizu or Sensei or Coach in animated conversations that leave time for everyone else to finish changing. Daichi thinks he probably shouldn’t be so fixated on something that doesn’t matter, but the absence of Suga in the club room is so, so noticeable. He keeps turning his head, mouth open with some comment or another lined up on his tongue, only to realize no one's there. Except maybe Ennoshita, who shoots him a knowing look.

So after practice Friday, Daichi hangs back. He makes a show of asking Yachi how she’s finding her new position, if she’s happy. She’s practically shaking with excitement as she tells him, “Oh, wow, yes, of course, 100%!”

Suga cocks at eyebrow at him over Yachi’s head, moving to leave the gym and head out to the clubroom. Daichi lifts both of his own, and grins.

\--

He opens the door, and as expected Suga’s the only one inside, everyone else having already headed home after a late practice. “Looks like we’re the last ones tonight.”

He can’t miss the way Suga jumps, already shirtless. He tries to smother it with an easy, “Guess so.”

Daichi lets his eyes sweep over Suga quickly. “Hows your circulation?”

“What? Oh,” Suga blinks. “It’s fine, you know. It was more a, uh, cautionary measure. My mom read some crazy article about blood clots and bought them for me.”

Lie. Lies upon lies. And the thing is, Suga’s a good liar. Daichi’s seen it, has been fooled by it countless times, more than he knows. If Suga doesn’t want you to know something, you won’t. It’s that simple, no matter how well Daichi likes to think he can read his vice captain. The simple truth is Suga can outsmart him any day of the week.

So if he’s lying like this, he wants Daichi to know.

“How’s Yachi?” Suga asks, conversational and light.

“If she and Hinata found a way to combine their general enthusiasm for life,” Daichi peels off his shirt. “We could solve the energy crisis.”

Suga laughs. “Not to mention, it’d definitely be the cutest solution.”

Daichi drops his shorts. “You thinks she’s cute?”

“Don’t you?” Suga casts a look over his shoulder. “You were the one flirting with her.”

“I was not!” Daichi splutters. 

“Relax,” Suga snorts, sitting back on the bench. “I was just joking.”

Daichi eyes him, watching as Suga tucks his thumbs into the one of socks, rolling it down. Slow. Purposefully slow. Then the other. And Daichi’s not sure, but he’s almost sure, face flushing at the thought, almost sure that--

“You--” Daichi balks. “Did you shave your legs?”

Suga turns pink from his chest to his hairline, bolting up to snatch his bag from the shelf. Daichi’s stares at the long, smooth expanse of skin from the hem of his boxer briefs, the barest curve to ass cheek peeking out, to the slim line of his ankle. His fingers twitch at his sides, wanting so badly to reach out and touch.

“I just wanted to see how it’d feel,” Suga yanks a pair of pants out, face a dark blotchy red. “I was showering and I had a razor and it just--shit.”

He tries to pull them on in one go, but he loses his balance, his feet slipping out from under him. He barely throws his arms back behind in time to catch himself on the bench just as Daichi surges forward on reflex. His got an awkward grip on Suga's arm that did nothing to help break his fall, but he keep holding on just the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Suga groans, pressing a hand to his lower back where his tailbone probably collided with the bench. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve taken harder spills before.”

“You sure?”

“Daichi, I’m fine.”

“I know, I just--” Daichu pulls his hands back just as Suga props himself up on the bench. It’s the barest of touches, a whisper of skin on skin with just the outside of his pinky brushing against Suga’s thigh, but that’s all it takes. That’s all it takes for a rush of fire to ignite in his veins, shooting through his entire body and punctuated by the throbbing dangerously low in his belly. That’s all it takes for Suga’s breath to catch, so quietly that if there had been any other noise Daichi would’ve never heard it.

His gaze flickers up, and sure enough Suga’s big brown orbs are staring down at him, a glaze of a question shimmering in his stare. Daichi’s fingers twitch again, hovering in the air where they’ve been stalled for what feels like years. “Does it feel nice?”

“It feels,” Suga’s voice is quiet, like he’s telling a secret, “it feels really nice, yeah.”

He asks, thin and breathless, “Can I…?”

There’s a slow dip of Suga’s throat, swallowing whatever words he might’ve had, and all he can manage instead is a nod.

Daichi isn’t sure he’ll ever get a moment like this again, the pads of his fingertips barely skimming Suga’s skin, watching as goosebumps rise in their wake, Suga visibly shivering at the touch. It’s smooth. So, so smooth and soft and warm, fuck.

Finally, he presses his palms flush against those thighs and slowly, as slowly as he can stand it, slides his hands up, up, up, until he reaches the edge of Suga’s underwear. Until they find the hem of his boxerbriefs, slliding under the material just enough for Suga to make a sound low in his throat. 

Daichi moves his hands back down, all the way down to his calfs, feeling the muscles there. His thoughts are thick and hazy, being suffocated so sweetly by his senses as he melts on the clubroom floor, feeling that hot skin under his touch as he glides back up again.

“D-Daichi,” is the first word Suga manages, stuttered and broken and making Daichi’s heart throb in his too-tight chest. 

“How far up did you shave?” he asks, eyeing up the cotton that’s ridden all the way up to the crease of his thigh. 

“All the way,” Suga breathes. 

“Do you like it?” Daichi asks, rubbing up and down. “Do you like feeling all smooth like a girl?”

Suga whimpers, bringing his hands up to cover his face. “Shit.”

“Did you do it hoping someone would see?” he feels the underside of Suga’s knees, tickling there and watching Suga squirm, then slide up the underside of his legs. That I would see? he wants to ask.

He gives Suga’s thighs a good squeeze. Daichi remembers how twiggy they’d been way back when the two of them were first years, how Suga’s thighs didn’t meet, how knobby his knees were. Daichi’d loved them then, too. He loved them when Suga came back from summer vacation with his parents the next year, when he’d stopped working out and been gorged with family cooking, all thick and rounded and grabbable. He loved the fine gray hair that covered them, how it matched the gray riding on the waistband of his boxers and the tufts of gray under his arms. He loved them now, meticulously shaven and rounded and toned, just enough fat on them to squeeze. He loves Suga’s legs, probably because they’re attached to Suga.

“You’re beautiful,” Daichi murmurs, and without a second thought lets his head fall forward, pressing his mouth to Suga’s knee. He keeps it there, eyes opening and staring up into Suga’s. He says it again, muffled, “beautiful…”

“Dai--ah!” Suga’s voice is swept from him, Daichi hiking those knees up over his shoulders and forcing Suga to lay back on the bench as he swings them around, throwing his own leg over it and settling between Suga’s. He can see the outline of a half-hard cock against the dark blue of his underwear. Daichi pauses of a moment, imagining taking it out of the slit in the boxerbriefs, working it to full hardness, making Suga come all over himself.

Another time, he thinks, because he’ll be damned if this is the last. He presses the cradle of his pelvis flush to the curve of Suga’s ass, letting him know he’s not the only one. There’s a soft gasp, and Daichi grins before turning his head and pressing a parted mouth to the inside of Suga’s knee. Then again, to the inner thigh, then down further again until his lips find the softest place and suction themselves there. 

No more soft gasps, this time Suga moans, the sound almost deafening in the quiet clubroom, and that moan hitches at the feeling of Daichi’s teeth scraping against that sensitive spot.

Fingers thread through Daichi’s hair, a low whisper of, “Are you trying to mark me?”

Daichi gets one last suck, pulling off with a wet sounding pop. He considers his handiwork, going, “That wasn’t the intention, but it’ll probably bruise a bit.”

“Daichi, what if someone sees!"

“It’s up too high for anyone to see," he presses his thumb against the red mark. "Relax, no one’ll know.”

“No one,” Suga pulls at Daichi’s hair. “Except you.”

Daichi’s gaze tunnels into Suga’s, heart pumping at those words. He likes it. God, it’s scary how much he likes the thought of no one else seeing Suga like this, no one else having him like this. It’s intoxicating, those words stirring inside of him, heat licking at his groin, dick twitching in his pants, and that seals the deal as well as seals his mouth onto Suga’s unmarked thigh. There’s a gentle thud, and when Daichi dares to glance up, Suga’s head is thrown back against the bench, his back curved in a beautiful arch with a hand covering his mouth. Daichi bites down, maybe a little too hard, and Suga jolts.

That’s when he hears it, the echo of a voice that makes them jump apart . “Dumbass, you better hope someone’s still here.”

“Shut up! It’s not like I made you come back with me!”

Oh, Daichi is going to run them ragged at morning practice tomorrow. He’s going to fucking pulverize them.

“Shit,” Suga hisses, reaching for his pants again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Relax,” Daichi whispers, grabbing Suga’s jackets and handing it to him. “It’s fine.”

Suga’s eyes look down pointedly. “Tell that to your boner.”

Daichi shoves a hand down his pants, flushed as he tucks his dick into the waistband of his underwear. Just as he pulls his hand out, Hinata and Kageyama burst into the room.

“See!” Hinata motions wildly. “They’re still here!”

“Excuse us,” Kageyama bows slightly. “Dumbass Hinata forgot his phone in his locker.”

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if you didn’t rush me out of here.”

“You were taking too long.”

“I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“Well,” Daichi crosses his arms, regarding his underclassmen. “You two sure are lucky we were here.”

Hinata jumps behind a rigid, pale Kageyama.

There’s a hand on his arm, Suga poking his head forward. “Get your stuff guys, we’re gonna lock up.”

Then he practically yanks Daichi’s arm off as he pulls him out of the club room, Kageyama whispering harshly behind them, “You pissed him off!”

“B-but I didn’t _do anything!"_

The door shuts, and Suga rounds on him. 

“Calm down,” he says, low with his face pressed in close. They haven’t kissed yet. They haven’t kissed but Daichi’s sucked two marks into Suga’s inner thighs. The thought takes the edge off of his anger, soothing it into a syrupy want as he licks his lips and stares down at Suga’s mouth. Pink and soft looking. 

It earns him a swift punch to the chest, Suga hissing, “That’s the exact opposite of calming down.”

Daichi clutches hands over his stomach, coughing out a laugh.

\--

“Uh, thanks for waiting for us,” Hinata says, still keeping a distance by using Kageyama as a shield.

“It’s fine. I’ve forgotten my phone in the clubroom probably a million times,” Suga says easily as Daichi locks the gymnasium doors. 

So...this is the feeling of being thoroughly and utterly cockblocked. Diachi sighs, shoulders sagging as he stuff the keys into his pocket.

He looks over his shoulders, Hinata explaining something to Suga with windmilling arms and sparkling eyes, Kagayama standing close by and keeping up a wry commentary. Daichi feels his eye twitch.

They all walk the slope from school to the foothill store, parting ways at the paths split.

“You guys worked hard today,” Suga calls out to them, waving. “Get some rest!”

There are simultaneous goodbyes that echo through the street, and once Hinata and Kageyama round the corner and are out of sight, Suga and Daichi are alone again. Daichi opens his mouth, about to say something. 

“You looked like you were about to murder them,” he says, walking a few paces ahead with his hands balled at his sides, his shoulders hunched . “It’s not like they did anything really wrong.”

“Suga,” Daichi calls after him, moving to keep up. 

“Now they think you’re mad at them for no reason,” Suga rounds on Daichi, face creased and eyes burning. “You need to learn to control your temper better.”

Daichi moves closer, eyes cast down. He remembers when Suga used to be taller than him, back when they first met. His hair had been shorter, sticking up in cowlicks Diachi used to sit behind him in class and imagine ruffling. Three years on, and a lot of things have changed. Bodies and hearts have grown, wins and losses tallied, roles stepped into. But the way Suga makes his heart race, his chest tighten, his skin burn--these things haven't changed at all.  
It's just finally time to do something about it.

“I won’t pretend like this didn’t happen,” Daichi steels himself, forcing the waver out of his voice, the shake of his his nerves. “Suga, I can’t.”

Suga tilts his head, delicate strands of gray falling against his cheek. He reaches up to tuck them behind his ear, going, “Did I say that we were gonna do that?”

“I--no, but,” he splutters, suddenly frazzled. He'd been expecting some complicated showdown, with heartfelt confessions. Possibly tears. Once again, Suga's pulled the rug out from under him. “We’re walking and you’re not saying anything so I don’t know what to think.”

Suga’s nose brushes against his own, and his breath fans against Daichi’s face as he says, “I wouldn’t have let you suck kiss marks into my inner thighs if I didn’t want you.”

Daichi’s face ignites in a deep, deep blush, thoughts flatlining. 

Hands come up, cupping the sides of Daichi’s face to pull him in. The moment their mouths touch, it feels like he’s been struck, straight through his chest and directly through his heart in a kinetic bolt. It makes his arms wind around Suga’s waist and pull him in tightly, lip parting, tongues just barely touching. Daichi flickers his, just slightly against the tip of Suga’s before pulling back.

He hums out a laugh as Suga chases his mouth. “We shouldn’t here.”

“Hm,” but Suga doesn’t pull away, eyes still trained on Daichi’s mouth.

“Suga,” he tries, “We should go.”

“We should,” he agrees, but doesn’t move. “Y'know, my mom’s visiting my aunt for her birthday. She made me a ton of food. There’s no way I can eat it all by myself.”

Daichi cocks at eyebrow, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Suga's pink ear. “Oh yeah?”

“You should come,” Suga’s eyes flicker up, “and help me finish it.”

He thinks he might almost rip Suga’s arm off as he yanks him down the street, but it’ll be fine. If it hurts, he’ll kiss it better later.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I'm gonna be honest...there is no bench in the volleyball team's clubroom. If you'd like to come yell at me for my blatant disregard of canon, feel free to visit my gross tumblr: chillnaxin.tumblr.com


End file.
